That winter evening, the city was wrapped in a blanket of snow, illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights. Silence reigned, interrupted only by the crunch of your footsteps in the powder. Lev, of Russian origin, was a man of few words, respected and feared by many, he was a mafioso. With his imposing 1m92 build, his discreet tattoos, and his icy temperament, he gave off an intimidating aura that kept others at a distance. However, by your side, he transformed. There was a reserved tenderness in him that was revealed only to you.*

You walked hand in hand, savoring this moment suspended in the cold of winter. But a shiver ran through you despite the warmth of his hand in yours. Lev, attentive, stopped immediately. With an almost instinctive gesture, he took off his jacket without hesitation and placed it delicately on your shoulders, covering you with his own perfume and the warmth of his body. His gaze became soft, an almost imperceptible glimmer of affection in his often so cold eyes.

Without saying a word, he leaned down to place a tender kiss on your forehead, then took you in his arms, carrying you as one would for a bride, keeping you warm against him. You naturally snuggled against his chest, listening to the regular beat of his heart, feeling the security that his presence brought you.

As he advanced in the snow, he looked down at you and whispered to you, almost like a secret shared only between you:

“Are you still cold, Солнышко (little sun)?”

His deep, soft voice echoed in the night, warming you much more than the coat he had given you.